metal noise

the man is all noise and fume -
where he is, machines
begin to run, clouds of blue
petrol smoke rise
and all the green falls to his
blade
axes chop and splinters fly
wood-sheds appear
miraculously - his whole
house takes on a new glow
up early with the sun his
busy hands are never done -
all the trees are gone:
irrelevancies
then he starts again
when he gets to the end of the
jobs his mind sees:
inexhaustible energies
all the hedges fall and the
grass is shorn
all the birds have gone
from his barrenness -
force of nature misplaced

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